Postcard From San Francisco Poem by Robert Creffield

Downtown moody boulevard chaos with geometric grid shaped layout and contrasting zones some fashionable clapperboard happy comfy with creepin Bougainvillea outer walls and others dark and lonely dog dirt proud - San Francisco with its great fishing net big catch clam mix of Chinese, Mexican, Red Indian stock, the down and dowdy, the rich and radiant the haves and want to haves and the opium red eyed living dead - they've been heading out this way for years seeking their fortune from the early gold rush days and Barbary coast dwellers, the out of town chancers, all looking for a free piece of pie, everyone wants the deal, everyone wants to win on the dollar wheel - walking downtown along Fisherman's Wharf with its crab steam pots and chowder sit easy squats and the huge swaying mass of touristy camera clicking lot, walking down Obese Pacific Highway thinking about America land of buy it, use it, chuck it, heaps of expendable disposable commodities - visited City Lights bookstore shrine where Ferlinghetti printed Ginsberg's Howl and the whole Beat Generation kicked off with the free flow thinkers so new and daring think Pollack in words so brave and loose now faded with ghosts of Kerouac and Burroughs in every shadowy bar - big visit to Frisco Museum of Modern Art and introduction to Sam Taylor Wood and Ralston Crawford keeping the flame alive. Yosemite was a silent mountain contrast hiking 3000ft to elevated waterfalls on the trail of the lonesome pine - then along the coast of grow anything Santa Barbara, Santa Maria, Santa Monica and sacks of Santa Claus goodies. Looking forward to Big Sur and more Kerouac dream connections. Not looking forward to flying home, could stay her, would stay here, if I was carefree rich or daring and loose.